My 10 year old grandson was over this weekend.
still bright orange rinds around juice, mixing with a few very green leaves, mixing ultimately with fried rice and chicken; no peas or carrots. finally in the mouth, hands letting go of virtual reality, face cleansed of sweat; finally eating at two o’clock. yes…yes, earlier hot chocolate with teeny tiny marshmallows. wake up time was ten o’clock. the cuckoo clock, doesn’t tattle; stays silent. at my grandma’s house, the little birdy checked on us, not only on the hour with subsequent cuckoos, but every half hour too.
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